Maybe Tomorrow
by boohoo650
Summary: Tonight, I just don’t have it in me to try and make sense of this crazy world to myself, let alone to someone else.


A/N Spoilers for season 6 thus far. Could be considered a "post-ep" for the eps up until this point I suppose.

Also, I don't own them and am not making any money so don't sue me.

_Wow, this floor of mine is really hard. Maybe I should think of investing in wall-to-wall carpeting if I plan on spending a significant amount of time down here. _

Bobby eyed the mostly finished bottle of scotch that sat beside him on his hardwood floor. He couldn't really remember how he had ended up on the floor but he figured it must have been a conscious choice if the bottle had come with him. He had been out with Lewis celebrating the New Year. _"Celebrating."_ _Ha. Is that what we're calling it these days? Be honest with yourself buddy, the New Year was just another excuse to continue with the bender you've been on for days now, _his conscience mocked. _And you definitely know how you ended up on the floor. It started with the giant mess that is your life, and continued to the point where you walked in the door and decided you couldn't go any further. So you sat down with the bottle of scotch you just bought at the liquor store, and here you stayed._

Bobby couldn't remember the last time everything in his life seemed so out of control. Sure, he could remember feeling down on his luck or as though life was tough, but never like this. Between his mother, his job, and his partner… he wasn't even sure where she fit in with this whole mess. Eames had always been a constant for him, an emotional rock, and the grounding force in his life for the last six years. Now, she was nowhere to be found.

_Oh Alex. Alex, Alex, Alex. Where did we go so wrong? _Bobby began to laugh at his own thoughts. _ Maybe it was the kidnapping? My mothers' illness? All the little things we couldn't protect each other from? I don't know. I wish I did. You were the best thing that ever happened to me and my little life. And somewhere along the way, it all got fucked up._

Bobby could remember clearly, when their relationship had begun to change. It was August and interminably hot and humid. After she had been kidnapped but before Wisneski. She had shown up on his doorstep in a brown tank top, jeans, and flat sandals. It was the first time in a while he had seen her in flat shoes, and the fact that she didn't clear his shoulder served as a reminder of how small his partner really is. She also came bearing food. Potato and macaroni salad, and some meat for hamburgers.

She was lonely she had said. Sitting at home, not working was doing nothing for her mood. He had never seen Alex be domestic. Hell, the few times he had been in her house she didn't have anything beyond cereal and what could be microwaved. But, on that hot night she had marched right into the kitchen of his Brooklyn brownstone, put his grille top on the stove and got to work on the burgers.

She had talked. Talked a lot, in fact. _She was chatting nervously, as if she was on a blind date and the other person wasn't talking. Only I was in fact trying to talk back, but she couldn't get rid of that nervous tick._

She was putting the burgers and salads onto plates and babbling about the weather when he decided he had to stop her. He couldn't sit idly and watch his best friend act like she was a stranger in his home. So he walked up behind her and put his hand on the small of her back. She had jumped at the touch and then turned to look up at him.

"Shh. It's okay. I know you feel slightly off kilter here, but you don't need to talk just to talk. We can be like we were. We can have an amicable silence pass between us and have that be okay. Believe me, I know sometimes life doesn't deal us the best hand. But you have to learn to make do."

She had merely nodded and looked away, as if embarrassed by her actions. He hadn't been able to stand the pained, confused look that crossed her face and it was in that second that Bobby had known he cared about her a little too much than was acceptable to the NYPD.

He reached for her chin and forced her to look at him. That's when he saw the tears in her eyes. He did the only thing he could think of to make them go away. He kissed her and hoped it would be what she needed.

At first she tried to back away but after one step she bumped up against the counter. A look of realization seemed to cross her face and then she had her head up to him and kissed him back. He had wrapped his arms around her and slid his tongue between her lips and let his body and heart take over, leaving his mind in the dust. He picked her up and put her on the counter and slowly but surely one thing led to another.

_God, what a first time that was. Alex with the experience of a 40 year old and the body of a 25 year old. She was a little hesitant at first, definitely letting me take the lead. She had the smoothest skin, and the softest lips. _

It had been fantastic. When it was over they stayed tangled around each other, her still on the counter for a few moments. He walked down the hall to the bathroom, he was only gone five minutes but by the time he got back she was dressed and trying to make her escape.

"I should go… I… we…" she started.

"No, stay. Please." He grabbed her arm and she gasped, sounding not a little frightened. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you."

"I. It's just… I'm just getting used to the feeling of people touching me in a nonviolent manner again." She looked sad for a moment, like a shadow of the woman he had known. The woman who was currently inside herself, hiding from the world. She also looked a little ashamed, ashamed that she could ever be afraid of this man who she trusted so completely

"I know. I'm sorry. Don't leave. You – you're safe with me."

She had gulped, her delicate Adam's Apple bobbing up and down. Then she stepped back into his arms and let him hold her.

From then on they had been "seeing each other." They spent most nights at each other's places, although usually at his due to her nightmares. He went to work, and she went to therapy.

About three weeks later the Wisneski case had fallen into his lap. It then fell into her lap as well when she insisted on coming back.

_And this is where it all started to go downhill. Now that didn't take long did it?_ Again Bobby's conscience was mocking him as he lay on the living room floor.

His mother's cancer had come out during that case and Alex had been pretty hurt about the way she had found out. She seemed to think that since she had let him through the many walls she had built for herself that he should do the same. Needless to say she hadn't shown up at his apartment that night, or for the three nights that followed.

_It's not like I felt guilty for not telling her. It's not like I even tried to apologize. I moped around the office feeling guilty because the man shot himself in front of his kid and I didn't do anything to stop it. I didn't feel guilty because I didn't feel like it was any of her business. Correction. I don't feel like it's any of her business. It's my pain to deal with. She has enough on her plate without having to worry about me and my sick mother._

Still, on the fifth night she came back. At two a.m. he had woken to find her sitting on the edge of his bed removing her shoes. She turned to find him staring at her. At first she appeared startled, having thought him asleep. Then she relaxed and lay down beside him.

"I couldn't sleep," she said softly.

"Okay."

And just like that things seemed to be "okay" again. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her back up against his chest, and rubbed her stomach in a slow circle lulling them both to sleep.

_But it wasn't "okay." It was like that fake "okay" that is so temporary that you can't help but see how fake it is. Everyone can see how fake it is. Except of course for those of us that don't see it. Some detective I am. I can't even see a ruse when it presents itself in the simplest of forms._

While Alex seemed to be dealing well with the trauma of her kidnapping Bobby was getting worse at dealing with life as it presented itself. He got moodier, slept less, and started to act as though his job meant nothing to him. He tried to push Alex away just enough to keep her out of what he thought of as his "mess." As a result, they spent less time together off duty. In particular they spent fewer nights together.

_See. Things were not as "okay" as they seemed._

Then Thanksgiving had happened. When he had snapped at her to "back off" he meant it, but a small part of him was hoping she wouldn't. He was hoping that she would be able to tough it out and stay by his side regardless of the pain in the ass he knew he was being.

When he had told Ross he didn't care if he fired him he knew he didn't mean it. Still, he had needed a new target to lash out at and the new captain and his job seemed to do the trick.

He hadn't gotten fired. He was suspended for two weeks and decided to take a leave of absence for three. That put him into the New Year. And where he was now, on his living room floor. He still had another week before he had to be back at work and things weren't any better than when he had first begun his time off.

After the first two weeks had gone by he had started to realize that while he couldn't "make everything better," he could certainly try and fix a few things.

So he had gone to see Alex. In fact, instead of letting himself into her house he had sat outside on the stoop and waited for her to return home from work one night. When she arrived she didn't look at all happy to see him.

"Hey," he said softly.

She just stared at him for a moment while leaning up against her car. Then she stepped forward, keys in hand, and began to move up the four steps to her door.

"No. You don't get to 'hey' me. In fact, you don't get to say anything to me. I was told you were suspended and that after that you were taking some personal time. That's fine. But honestly, I'm not prepared to see you right now. So, you can leave."

At that she entered her house and shut the door. Bobby could do nothing but stare at the door that had just closed in his face.

"So that's what it feels like to have someone you love shut you out," he mumbled aloud.

He had contemplated taking out his key and letting himself into her house but decided that his version of "home invasion" would probably not do wonders for her psyche.

And so there was little to celebrate during the holiday season, and no one to really celebrate with. He had of course spent most of his time with his mother, but that could hardly be counted as celebrating. He had made the choice to go out with Lewis on New Years Eve thinking that maybe getting out of the house and into a bar for a few hours was just what he needed. _Wrong again Bobby, wrong again._

When he decided he had had enough of the bar scene, that he wasn't going to find a woman who could even temporarily make things better or a woman who could erase his memories of Alex, he had left. Stopping at the only liquor store he had seen open on his walk home he had picked up a bottle of Dewar's and headed home, already well on his way to drunk.

_And that is how you got here, _the incessant voice in his head reminded him. _Here on the floor at three in the morning. Feels good doesn't it? Alone except for your booze. You don't even have a glass to keep you and your bottle company. Laying on your hard floor. Too much of a sorry bastard to even make it to the couch. _

And that's when he heard it. A key in the lock. The door creaked open and then shut, but before he could even announce the fact that he was laying on the floor a petite figure tripped and fell over him. He did his best to reach out and catch her, but his reflexes were slow because of the liquor.

"Ow! Dammit Bobby. What in god's name are you doing down here?"

"I needed a rest. I couldn't make it to the couch. So I stopped here and figured I'd get moving again when I had some energy," he responded with a chuckle.

"Let me go," she said defensively, trying to pull out of the bear hug he had dragged her into in his attempt to catch her as she fell.

"You smell like wine."

"And you smell like scotch, so I guess we're even."

"Where have you been young lady, I bet your father wouldn't want to know about you being out at three in the morning."

"God, how drunk are you?" Alex asked with an exasperated sigh.

"Just drunk enough. How drunk are you?"

"Apparently not enough for this pity party you're having on your floor."

"Alex. Don't start with me right now. I'm half curious about why you're here in my apartment, but the other half really doesn't care about much right now so you can take the easy out and leave me to my drunken peace and come back another day if you like. But really, if you came to read me the riot act don't bother."

At this point he realized that he still hadn't released her from his hold, but that she wasn't fighting him either. The soft feeling of a cashmere sweater under his fingertips seemed to have a somewhat soothing effect on his mind.

"Bobby, what are you doing? Why are you laying here feeling sorry for yourself? I mean, if you take your mom out of the equation you're left with not half bad circumstances. You have your job, and somehow you have me."

"I don't have you" he countered bitterly "you made that clear the day you shut the door to your house in my face."

"No. You asked for space. You told me to back off. You took personal time from work. You shut me out first. You shouldn't have just expected me to throw myself into your arms because you decided it was a good time for you to show up."

"Dammit, Alex. I needed for you to understand. You weren't understanding. I didn't know how to make you…"

"Make me? How about explaining it to me? How about not yelling at me in the squad room of all places to 'back off?' How about deciding that if you're going to be in a relationship with someone that you have to let them into your life? It has to be a two way street. I let you in. I let down my walls for you. And you repaid me with an emotional slap in the face."

"No. Alex… just… no. I can't let you into everything. Not everything is yours to be into. I am trying to protect you from the dark areas of my life. I'm trying to keep things simple for you. You've had a rough year."

"I've had a rough year. That's your excuse. Fuck you. You can't protect me from everything. I'm not a child, I see what's happening around me. Either you treat me as your equal, as your partner or this isn't for us. I'm sorry, but I didn't let myself get involved in this only to have you make things harder. I let myself get involved because you were helping me and I wanted to help you. You have been my best friend in so many ways for the past six years and I was trying to be the same to you. And yet you don't seem to want that friendship anymore."

He could hear her trying to swallow the tears that he couldn't see because of the darkness. It pained him, but he didn't know how to let her in. In fact, he didn't even know how to tell her he didn't know how to let her in. At this point she was sitting up, straddling him, and his hands had moved to her hips. He let one of his hands travel up between her shoulder blades, and he tried to pull her back down to him. Tried to show her with his body what he couldn't seem to show her with his voice. That he wanted to let her in but he just didn't know how. He had never had anyone in that way before. Anyone who was that interested in know him, knowing his demons, and trying to chase them away. He wasn't like her. She had had a husband. Someone with whom she had shared things and who had shared things with her. He had spent so long going from one girl to the next, one partner to the next, that he didn't know how to let someone in that way. It was only from taking care of his mother that he knew how to take care of another, both physically and emotionally.

So he tried to pull her down to him. But she wouldn't move in his direction. She put her right palm on the floor and began to push herself into a standing position.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "but you don't hold the corner on having problems anymore. You're right, I've had a rough year. But so have you. And I've managed to find it in myself to trust you every step of the way. But you can't seem to find a way to trust me. And I don't think I can stay here for that. It's a new kind of hurt you're inflicting on me."

She stepped over him and back to the door, letting herself out. Leaving him on the floor behind her. He didn't hear her walk away. In fact, he heard her slide down the door to the floor on the other side. Heard her start to cry. But he couldn't go to her. He just couldn't move from his spot on the floor on his side of the door.

_I tried. I went to her two weeks ago, and I tried and she shut me out. And maybe it's wrong of me to not take the opportunity as it has presented itself now but I just don't have the energy tonight. Tonight, I just don't have it in me to try and make sense of this crazy world to myself, let alone to someone else. Maybe tomorrow, in the light of day, the floor will feel colder, harder, and less welcoming. Maybe tomorrow it will have caused my back to ache and make me want to get up from this spot. And maybe that will be enough to propel me out the door to try again. Maybe it will be enough to make me realize that I could just as easily lose the good things in my life as I could find a way to keep them._

_Maybe tomorrow._

A/N So I hadn't intended for this to end in an unhappy fashion. But then it did.


End file.
